't stop, rock on Chubb rock flip the script 'cause I'm gone Verse three: chubb rock Yippi-yi-yeah, stay, hooray, yo, hurrah I jumped up upon the mic
the ones most ancient of the days They call the prince of disease, messenger of the Absu Carry through the icy winds our curse upon their church Hanging
test My first recollection is a day in November Seven forty seven tracin' lines through the sky Like some old gypsy curse Silently praying Upon the dreams
from Tipperary mountains high Noble men with wills of iron who are not afraid to die And who'll fight with Gaelic honor held on high A curse upon you
Tipperary mountains high Noble men with wills of iron Who are not afraid to die Who'll fight with gaelic honour held on high [Chorus] A curse upon
voice And reasoning as iron shields. And dreadful words it were As he spoke of abandonment Thus I shivered as the Tempest, As his fever came upon my
of the Elder King, Unfettered at last the Trinity of Might, The sceptre, the sword, and the ring. THE SORCERER: I stand upon the oaken planks of this
of the dread Obsidian Crown, a fearsome mystical artefact countless thousands of years old, a black-jewelled circlet believed once to have been borne upon
Camulodunum (the Temple of Claudius burned wonderfully!), Londinium and Verulanium, the cursed Romans finally dared to meet us honourably upon the field
the shadows revolt At the incest of spiritual love Castrata choirs, bereft of such lusts Spatter virginal breasts with their blood The iron tongue of
be a martyr But a telephone pole beat me to it It was covered in barbed wire Saw a little boy's white teeth Like wild horses encaged by an iron string
Times were changing Eighteen years and fading Ain't a lot of time left to be a star On an island All alone and dying Walk upon the water But you won
Now your time has come, a storm of iron in the sky War and murder come again, lucky if you die No way to rescue destiny, scream and curse in vain You
Now your time has come a storm of iron in the sky, War and murder come again, lucky if you die. No way to rescue destiny, scream and curse in vain, You
runs out to sea Down below the quarterdeck The old men mend the fishing nets While up upon the windy bridge The young men curse into the wind Up and
It came from the skies Iron of the Flaming Star Remade in a time of sorrow To cast the grief I shall ablaze the skies As I lay down my wrath Upon your
